


Natura Non Constristatur (nature is not saddened)

by sammyspreadyourwings



Series: Ad Astra per Aspera [3]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Animal Transformation, Early 70s, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Moving In Together, Nymphs & Dryads, Pre-Slash, Supernatural Abilities, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 01:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18400355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: The boys finally all move in together just in time for Brian's first shift.





	Natura Non Constristatur (nature is not saddened)

**Author's Note:**

> ahahah, I'm back and with an update. We're finally, sort of, at the good stuff. Okay, the actual good stuff comes in the next installment! But this is also good! Enjoy!

In hindsight, Brian should have delayed their move-in date or maybe just delayed his own. Moving into a new house is stressful enough. There are new scents to learn and people he’s unfamiliar with to get to know. Freddie says that this apartment complex is nondiscriminatory, but Brian doesn’t smell another lykan (which on some levels is a good thing) and he smells a lot of humans.

The problem is that he must get used to a new place with less than a month before his shift. It’s also the first shift that he’s going to share with the band because of their move-in schedule, he couldn’t afford another ticket to his parents’ house.

Brian hasn’t officially told them his shift months, despite Roger having figured it out by now. He’ll tell John within the week. First, he needs to explore their flat completely. Roger and Freddie are hiding out in the kitchen where John banished them while he works on fixing the thermostat the landlord kindly forgot to mention was broken. Technically, Brian should be in the kitchen, but it’s his first time in the flat and he doesn’t know what’s towards the back. He doesn’t like not knowing.

John nods to him as he passes. Scents from the previous residents linger in the wall. When it’s a particularly strong odor he brushes his wrist against that spot on the wall. He does the same to both the backdoor and bedroom doors as well as any windows he comes across. As faint as his own scent is now, it calms him significantly.

“Have we claimed rooms yet?”

“No, but we’ll have to partner!” Freddie replies.

Brian chuckles when he realizes that Freddie only spoke at normal volume, and now John is waiting for an answer.

“He says that we’ll have to partner up,” Brian brushes against the wall next to John.

“Of course he has,” John grumbles, “I have no idea why he finds this joke of his so funny.”

Brian shrugs, “it is kind of funny. You and Roger make the best faces when you think he’s ignoring you.”

“And here I thought you were the nice one.”

He yips and passes a hand along John’s back as he returns to the kitchen. Roger’s feet are propped on the counter and Brian knocks them off as he passes. Freddie snickers and Roger leans forward so that he’s resting his chin on his arms.

“What was that for?”

“We’ve lived here for an hour, let’s try to keep in nice for a day,” he replies.

“Make it homier,” Roger pouts.

“I forgot vampires adore living in trash cans.”

“Hey, there’s an epidemic of homeless vampires, you shouldn’t make light of them.”

Brian whines when he hears a loud thump from above them. It sounds like someone just dropped something. He growls when he hears it again and cocks his head to try and locate it.

“My bad,” he answers Roger distractedly.

Roger sighs, “joking, Bri. Council says 70% of them are vagrant by choice. Easier hunting, I suppose.”

Brian paces around the small island. The sound came from somewhere above their living room.

Freddie huffs loudly. Brian tilts his head and wanders so that he’s pressed against Freddie. He sniffs just in case he missed something. Fred’s hand goes between his shoulder blades and strokes lightly. It releases the tension in his muscles, but he still watches Freddie.

“Sorry, Brian,” Freddie says, “I didn’t think you’d be this jumpy about a new place.”

“S’okay,” he replies and rolls his shoulders.

“It would’ve been better to wait, right?” Roger moves from where he was sitting and glances at Freddie.

Brian isn’t sure Freddie has figured out the true reason for his biannual trips to his parents.

“Maybe? We would’ve lost the least if we waited until May was over though.”

Freddie digs his fingers into his back for a second. Brian leans into the touch just as Roger grabs his hand. It’s a good indication that he knows what Roger is talking about. John should be in here for this, it’s the proper sort of conversation to slip in that information.

Roger lifts the hand to his lips, “is there anything we can do to make this less stressful?”

Brian bites his cheek in thought. He’s sure that it’s because he’s moved three times in the same amount of years when previously he lived in the same house for eighteen years. The turn coming up stresses him out and the fact that he can’t be with his parents only adds to it. He is grateful to his bandmates.

“Maybe stay in for the first couple of weeks more?” Brian ducks his head.

“Sure,” Freddie answers automatically.

“What are we doing?” John wanders back with his toolbox.

“Did you fix it darling?”

“Best I can, as long as it stays this weather we shouldn’t have a problem,” John replies, “but what were you talking about?”

“Staying in the first few days, getting used to the new place, relaxing before the end of the semester, you know.”

John nods and then moves to set the toolbox under the sink, “I’m fine with that. Rog, you won’t need to feed right?”

“I can wait a little longer.”

Brian whines violently loud.

“Or, I can go out tonight when you all asleep,” Roger holds up his hands.

Brian rumbles his agreement.

John laughs, “well, anyone want take-out? I still have some money from my mom.”

“Oh, can we order from that Chinese place I saw down the block?” Freddie jumps up, leaving Brian to slightly stumble in the vacancy of his prop. Roger pulls him against him while Brian yips at Freddie.

“We don’t have their number, but we can walk there?”

John looks at Brian who looks away.

“If that’s alright?”

“You don’t have to ask me for permission,” Brian mumbles, “I’m not your keeper.”

Freddie rolls his eyes, “says the man who caught so caught up reading about space he forgot to eat or drink for an entire day.”

Brian flushes, “that was one time.”

“No,” John and Roger echo.

He huffs and tries to remove himself from Roger’s grasp, who instead tightens his grip. Brian could probably get out of it if he wanted to, but after a couple more seconds of squirming, he settles back down.

“Get me whatever tofu dish they have.”

John raises his hand as he stumbles putting his boots on.

“Roger do you want anything?”

“Yeah, bring me back a hot-red head.”

Brian elbows him at the same time Freddie burst out laughing.

“My bad, point proven.”

It’s strange to Brian, that this group of people can forget what they are behind closed doors so easily. They don’t deny it, but they also don’t judge each other for it. His mother didn’t believe him when he told her what he was doing, and his father was furious.

_“You’re too naïve boy, this band is going to come back and haunt you, or worse, drag those boys down with you.”_

Brian whimpers.

“What’s wrong?” Roger shifts so that he can look Brian in the eye.

He looks away, and towards the water stain on the wall. That’s something they’re going to have to watch to make sure it doesn’t get worse. Roger squeezes him once.

“New place.”

“Ah,” Roger grins, “why don’t we go get dibs on the room we want?”

“Who says we’re sharing?”

“Me.”

“Maybe I wanted John,” Brian says as Roger starts to drag him towards the back of the flat.

“John and Freddie sleep more than we do,” Roger counters, “and you love cuddling with me.”

“You don’t sleep at all, that’s not a fair quantifier.”

“You’re trying to balance nocturnal and diurnal biology.”

Brian snorts, “those the words you learned in your zoology class this week?”

“Maybe, but you should be proud of me applying my knowledge to real-life situations,” Roger turns and grins.

“Well,” Brian pauses for effect, “if you really paid attention, you’d know some wolves are crepuscular.”

“That’s where the balancing comes in.”

With that Roger strides with purpose towards the two bedrooms. Brian follows along amicably and lets Roger evaluate the two rooms.

“They’re the same size,” Roger pouts, “that’s no fun.”

“This one is next to the bathroom, which means you can hear it loudly.”

“Oh, that’s going to make Freddie so mad. Losing the race in the morning is going to be so worth it.”

Brian steps into their new room. The window overlooks the community backyard and gives a clear view of the sky. Plus, it’s further away from the road, and the flat itself is quiet from both neighbors. He’s grateful that the walls are more soundproof than the ceiling. Roger stands next to him with his hands on his hips.

“Let’s get our shit in here before Freddie can argue logistics.”

It takes half an hour to locate and relocate their boxes, but both of their beds get made, which means their scents are slowly wafting upwards and getting rid of that empty smell that clung to the flat. The former residents aren’t even traceable in here. He sighs happily.

“What?” Roger rolls on his feet.

“Smells better.”

“Yeah?” Roger leans back on Brian’s bed, “always knew you didn’t hate that I smelled like, how’d you put it,? Old man.”

“I said you smell like old blood. Not that you smell like an old man.”

“It sounds the same.”

Brian straightens. Their door is being messed with, but then he makes out of the faint jingle of keys. It opens and the smell of Chinese food fills the flat. He wrinkles his nose because Freddie got something spicy again.

“Smell any hot red-heads?”

“No, but Freddie might turn red after eating whatever it is he ordered. Peppers with a couple of pieces of chicken I think.”

“How much Chinese food do you think we’d have to eat to have our flat smell like it permanently?”

Brain wrinkles his nose again and then snorts as if to clear it from that smell, “I will move out before then.”  
“You love us too much.”

“Roger, you don’t understand how bad old chinse food smells.”

Roger laughs, “we found the limits of Brian May’s patience, ladies and gentlemen.”

Brian shoves against him and heads out of the room. John is looking for plates while Freddie organizes the take-out containers.

“I think the plates ended up in the bathroom?” Roger scrunches his nose, “yeah. Bathroom.”

“Why?” John sighs.

“I put them there,” Roger shrugs.

John opens his mouth and then closes it. He walks out of the kitchen. Brian tilts his head to see if he can hear anything John is saying, but when he hears no disgruntled rumblings, he grabs the take-out container labeled tofu. It smells decent, and he picks out an ear of baby corn, happy that the sauce isn’t too overpowering.

“Use utensils!” Freddie scolds.

Brian makes eye contact with him before picking up a pea pod and eating it. Freddie squawks indignantly while Roger nearly falls off the stool cackling. John returns a second later with his arms filled with a box labeled _plates_ _😊_ _._ He looks between them before setting the box on the counter and digging one out.

“There are three of us eating, you know,” Freddie frowns.

“Yes,” John says dumping his take-out container out on the plate.

Brian grins as Freddie huffs and exaggeratedly gets two plates out. John is ignoring him, which only makes Freddie more dramatic motions to get him to pay attention. Roger is double over in laughter because it’s now frustrating Freddie. He waits patiently for his plate while eating whichever vegetables he can reach without getting too messy.

* * *

He paces around the flat. His flatmates said they’d be back by this time. Brian sniffs and cocks his head to listen to approaching footsteps. There’s no sound from below and he moves to the back of the flat again. It’s officially a week out from the full moon. The anxiety hasn’t been as bad as it usually is, but he doesn’t like not knowing where his flatmates are. Their scents are all a couple of hours old and starting to fade.

Brian whines and turns to head back to the front of the flat again. He stops and cocks his head. Hearing no sound again he paces towards the backdoor, stopping by his room to sniff again. He reaches the backdoor just as the faint jangle of keys picks up. Quickly he turns and heads towards the front door. Jasmine hits his nose and he relaxes marginally.

Freddie is home.

He forces himself to go into the kitchen and look as though he was digging through the refrigerator. Freddie steps through the door and drops his bag down. Brian wanders towards him with the first thing he found which happens to be a string cheese stick.

“Hey,” Freddie smiles.

“Welcome back,” Brian pulls a piece off, “I thought you were supposed to be back at four?”

“The stall got swarmed last minute, so I stayed to help with customers.”

“Ah.”

Freddie frowns, “why?”

“No reason, John and Roger aren’t back either,” Brian shrugs, his voice pitches up, “was bored.”

“Mm,” Freddie hums and wander passed him.

Brian follows him, and the cuddles against him the second he settles on the couch with his sketchbook in his lap. Freddie raises an eyebrow.

“I was thinking about a new band logo.”

“To match the name?”

“Yeah, the lips don’t sit well with Queen do they?”

Brian frowns, he likes their current logo, but he’s not going to stop Freddie from exploring his creativity. Who knows, it could be better. He watches Freddie sketch thin gray lines onto the page. Slowly he forms a circle, and Brian is calmer now that someone is back. There’s still a tremor of tenseness along his spine.

“What’s the matter?” Freddie coos after some time.

“Roger and John should be back by now.”

“They’ll have a good reason, but they don’t really need one.”

Brian moves so that his head is right next to Freddie’s chest, he feels and hears his heartbeat. It’s faster but stronger than most humans. Freddie sets the pencil on the table next to him and the pad on the table. There’s some awkward maneuvering but then Brian can rest his head more comfortably on Fred’s stomach.

“Now, are you going to explain things?”

“You won’t get it,” Brian scrunches his nose, “ _I_ don’t get it.”

Freddie tuts and rubs Brian’s arms. Brian rumbles in response and tries to bury his nose deeper in Freddie’s stomach.

“Can you sing for me?”

“What would you like?”

“Dunno, just something,” Brian bites his lips, “could you also, you know?”

“Bri, you know I don’t want to do that to you.”

“Not that way,” Brian shakes his head, “the other way.”

“You want me to what, calm you down?”

Brian nods.

Freddie taps his fingers on Brian’s arms for a second before nodding slowly, “if you’re sure.”  
He is. If he can’t calm down through normal means then Freddie’s voice is the second best option. After a beat of hesitation, Freddie begins to sing something in the old tongue. If Brian cared at the moment, he’d wonder whether or not Roger was taught it, and he knows it's long been forbidden to be learned by lykans.

That doesn’t stop them from hoarding their one ritual in it.

Brian's eyes slip close as the tension and anxiety slide out of his body. Freddie’s inflection changes and he stirs slightly but settles. He blinks his eyes open when Freddie stops singing the world slowly coming back into his awareness, there is a hand on his face, and he turns into briefly.

“Hey, Brian,” Roger grins, crouching in front of him and both hands dangling between his legs.

Brian noses into the palm of John’s hand. Three scents drift into his nose, and this time he’s able to slip into a contented sleep without Freddie’s magic.

* * *

The thing about full moons is that if even if Brian was thrown into a dark pit with no light he’d still know when there is one. It’s an ache that goes deeper than blood and muscle and straight into the core of his being.

How’d the tale go?

_And lo’ the river red a mother weeps in Capitoline_

_As Romulus howls more beast than man_

_The poison in hand, and sorrow the other_

_Brother splayed across his lap_

_Of suffering, he has wrought upon himself_

_He is spared four nights every season_

_By Luna’s humane light._

Brian closes his eyes as the ache deepens. It’ll only get worse closer to moonrise. Roger and John have gone off to classes for the day, but he can hear Freddie wandering around the flat. He pants and twists. His eyes can’t get any tighter, but he can’t ignore the fear lancing through his ribs.

“Freddie!” He rasps.

The voice is always the first to go, and even this early he can feel the sharp of his fangs on his bottom lip. His door flies open and he jumps up back pressed against the wall and teeth bared.

“Sorry, darling!”

He calms down and the familiar lilt. Brian presses himself further against the wall. It’s hard to tell if he wants to run or fight, but he knows he really doesn’t want Freddie here. Or at the very least in his room for the next several hours.

Brian doesn’t trust the door.

“Can you,” he swallows and tries to smooth out his voice, “can you go to the hardware store and by better locks for the door?”

Freddie frowns. His heart rate picks up and slams against Brian’s ears. He winces and tilts his head away from the noise, still never removing his gaze from the other. The scent of Jasmine has veered into something old and something far more dangerous, his own scent hidden between thistles of ancient magics. Brian opens his mouth to breathe instead.

He’d hoped that he’d been with them long enough. Roger _might_ be the only one he’d be calm around, but he’s never been around a _vampire_ in his shifted form. There’s no way in hell he’d let John get anywhere near him.

“Brimi!”

The tone causes his eyes to snap to Freddie’s face from where they unconsciously drifted to watch his body.

“Why do I need to get extra locks?”

“Door reinforcement too.”

“What?”

“They make ‘em. Like kiddie gates. For shifts.”

What time is it?

“Half one.”

Ah. He said that out loud. That’s about seven hours before the physical shift truly begins. No wonder his head is so foggy.

“You want me to get locks and reinforcement, for you?”

Brian nods.

“You won’t hurt us.”

“Can’t risk it. Please.”

Freddie nods, “okay.”

The door clicks shut. Brian tilts his head and listens for the fading footsteps and soft jangling of keys. Once he’s certain he’s alone his heart rate calms significantly. He should have thought about this earlier. Foolishly he trusted that his turn would work out for him. That he could trust himself to not harm his flatmates.

Apparently, he hasn’t accepted them as pack yet.

A tremor runs down his spine and he gasps in pain. His nails sharpen and he’s spitting feathers out from the shredded duvet. He frowns trying to remember when he had gotten onto a bed. Was he even on his bed? His color vision is fading, he can’t tell if he’s on Roger’s red duvet or his own green one.

Either way, it’s ruined. A growl tears itself from his throat, and he rakes his claws through the cover again. His nails on his feet get caught in the punctures on the pillows. He should get rid of the breakable things while he still has the thought capability of a human. The Red Special was moved last night, it’s next to John’s bass in their “studio” room. Books are usually safe and he can’t comfortably move the furniture. The wardrobe is locked, so Roger and his clothes are safe.

He’ll have to figure out the casualties in the morning. Not for the first time he finds himself wishing that London was rural enough to house a designated shifting group. It’s safer to stay in, but nothing beats running through the woods.

Freddie returns. Muffled voices filter in between the wood. The soft rainy scent is John’s. Something whirls a screaming song at the door. Oh. The reinforcement panels. He growls and arches up. There’s still the bright of the sun. He has hours more to go.

He flings himself to the floor when he feels his lower back feels like it’s splitting apart. His foot kicks out to try and alleviate some of the aches in his hips, which only causes it to cramp and grow heavy. It feels like his tongue can’t fit in his mouth and opens his mouth to have it roll out. The carpet is dry against it.

He feels the switch flick.

* * *

Roger paces around the living room. With each thump or pained whine the urge to go upstairs increases. John is the only one with the lock combination though and he doesn’t want to break apart the set-up Freddie just spent eighty pounds on.

 _Full moon special price,_ Freddie had said, and Roger wanted to burn that entire store down. As if this is something companies need to make money from. He won’t get the combination from John until he thinks that Brian is in true danger, and Roger won’t cross that line and compel him.

This isn’t anything new. Brian has gone through this his entire life, Roger shouldn’t be so worried. He’s not until the groans and shrieks start turning rougher and into growls and barks. His own throat is tacky with thirst. He should feed tonight or tomorrow, but he can’t leave Brian alone.

He’s half tempted to bite the bullet with stored blood, as horrible and unfulfilling is. But it’ll probably just make him sick in the long run. Hunting now seems impossible knowing what Brian is going through.

Another loud thud and then something shatters. Roger looks to John who is biting his lip.

“I’ll go check on the window.”

Curse Freddie for being calm. Curse John for being calm. How can they just sit there while Brian is going through unknowable pain? They can’t know Brian’s status until they open the door, and that will take forty minutes to dismantle.

“It’d be worse for Brian,” John says.

Shit. He said that out loud.

“That one you did. The first one was just your expression.”

“Good news,” Freddie says walking back into the living room, “the window is intact.”

John leans back into the couch at that news. It’s good that they don’t have to worry about Brian getting out, but Roger thinks it’s even more ridiculous that they have to. He grabs the lamp and flings it against the wall, the bulb shatters, and the plaster dints but there’s no real satisfying destruction.

Freddie tosses him their ash try and he flings that against the wall and this time something shatters. He looks around for something else to throw.

“Destroying things isn’t going to change anything,” Freddie replies, “Brian wanted to be locked in there. So, let’s respect his wishes. He knows how to do this better than any of us.”

Roger is about to agree when a howl pierces the air of the apartment. The three of them look outside to see that the moon has reached its apex. He closes his eyes, even something as animalistic as that still sounds like Brian in its mournful pitch.

“Fuck this.”

He storms out and straight to their room. The door looks like some reinforced asylum door. As he reaches out to the latch at the top he hesitates. Freddie and John are right, Brian did ask for this. It hurts him but he lowers his arm. If Brian hurt him, there would be no recovery for him. Instead, he lowers himself to the floor. There’s still a gap between it and the door.

“Bri,” he calls softly.

A few seconds pass and then he hears the clicking of nails on wooden floors. Roger winces at the thought of the damage that may have already been done to their flat. There goes their deposit.

He lays on his stomach, and peers under the door. Not that he can see much, Roger spots what he thinks is a dark paw. The urge is too strong for him to repress and he slides his fingers under the frame as much as they would good. Barely halfway under. Something wet touches them and he jerks back in surprise.

A minute passes and he slides them under again and this time he hears sniffing. Roger glances down the hallway when he hears footsteps. John is looking between him and the door.

“Well.”

That’s all he says before sitting across from the door and resting his back against the wall. Roger feels John’s heels dig into the small of his back, he bucks his hips slightly but doesn’t dislodge him. Freddie joins them not long after and his feet dig into Roger’s shoulders.

* * *

The locks and reinforcement are quickly unlatched the next day with great care. Freddie had forced them to wait until 10 just to make sure that there wouldn’t be an accident. Roger slides the last bolt over and then opens the door. Brian is curled up on the foot of the bed, naked as the day he was born.

He’s not sure why, but he thought there would be more than the destruction of their covers and pillows to prove what happened to Brian last night. Like bruises or marks on his skin. John steps in behind him and surveys the room.

“You’ll need a new comforter and pillows.”

Roger nods.

“Let’s go get them and let Brian rest,” Freddie claps his hand.

Brian snores loudly, which means he truly is exhausted. Roger wanders over and drapes the covers over him, snorting at some of the feathers that were tossed out. It’s going to be a bitch to clean, but he’s happy Brian seems to be alright.

“And find Roger food.”

Roger is surprised he had forgotten about the tickle in his throat and the ache in his stomach. Maybe he’ll luck out and find someone with Fae blood, he needs it after last night. As guilty as it makes him feel, but the guilt only makes him want to find someone more intensely

“I can do that myself, you guys worry about the bed and Brian.”  
He ignores the look Freddie and John share. He knows exactly what he’s going, like Brian knows what he’s doing.

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are. Wonder what's up with Roger? (also someday I'll write the aftermath of this particular night). Also, how'd you all feel about Brian's transformation scene? Good, bad? Don't worry you'll get to see the full form of Brian at some point in the series.  
> Also a def feel like I was neglecting Freddie in this series, so he got a moment today.  
> Anyway, as always leave your thoughts and comments below! Or come talk to me on tumblr!


End file.
